


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #18

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [20]
Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lsklainegleek asked you: What I’d like to see from the CREMA verse is more of the first few dates the boys had right after their first kiss at the castle in Central Park. I’d like to hear the banter, the bashfullness, the romance of them really getting to know one another initially. Where did they go? Did either of them bring the other flowers? Did they run into any homophobia? How did they handle that? I ADORE this verse! Thank you!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #18

Blaine stares at the phone in his hand for far, far too long.  He doesn’t know if he can do this.  He hasn’t done  _this_  ever.  His heart is fluttering, fast and nervous, so nervous, in his chest and his stomach is clenching almost painfully.  He thinks he might want to vomit, but he hasn’t been able to eat anything at all since he woke up.  His fingers are faintly trembling as he stares at the screen of his phone – the screen that holds the ten digits of a very important number.  It’s perhaps the most important number that Blaine has ever had in his possession.

 _He wants you to call him_ , he thinks for the hundredth time and rubs two fingers against the bridge of his nose, just to give his other hand something to do.

It’s Sunday afternoon, less than a day since he last saw Kurt.  Since he and Kurt parted ways back at Union Square, where they began their date.  Their first date.

_We went on a date._

The memory of it, so fresh and so raw, makes helpless wonder bubble up inside of Blaine and forces him to stand up from where he was sitting on the couch and pace restlessly around his tiny, cramped living room.  He keeps stepping on the warped floorboard, even though he knows its location by heart.  He is nervous and distracted, and he hardly notices the groaning of the old, worn wood under his feet or the creaking of the neighbor’s aging pipes through the too-thin walls.

Blaine hardly slept at all the night before, unable to brush away the feeling of Kurt’s palms against his or make his lips forget the taste of Kurt’s.  He’d turned over and over, body aching with something he didn’t know he could ever want again.  But he wants Kurt, or at least he thinks he could – Kurt with his bright eyes and sweet smile, with his long legs and the way his clothes seem to be a natural extension of him.  Kurt who took him to Central Park because he wanted Blaine to see one of his favorite views of the city; who didn’t shy away when courage got the best of Blaine and he reached out to take Kurt’s hand in his own.  Kurt who took the final step and pressed the sweetest kiss Blaine has ever known to his lips.

And then, hours later, when they’d finally wandered out of the park and found themselves at the subway to go their separate ways, Kurt had tugged Blaine close, brushed a wayward curl off his forehead, and found his mouth again, right there on the sidewalk, amidst the hustle of Union Square.  In front of everyone who cared to see.

 _He kissed you goodbye and told you to call him,_  Blaine thinks. _Fucking call him._

He presses  _send_  before he has the chance to back out again, like he has the last three times.

The phone rings, and rings again, until it goes to Kurt’s voicemail.  Panic surges, hot and tasting of bile, in Blaine’s gut as Kurt’s soft, beautiful voice tells him that he’s unavailable and to please leave a message.

“Hi, Kurt, uhm this is Blaine, the barista.  Your barista.  Not that, uhm, I’m just yours.  I mean, well I  _am_ , because I’m not seeing…but that’s not, I – wow ok,” Blaine pauses, closes his eyes, and takes a deep, grounding breath.  He wishes he could hang up and try again.  He almost wishes he hadn’t tried at all.  Kurt is too good for him – he’s just a stupid boy and his fumbling, stumbling attempt at leaving a simple message only proves it all the more.

 _Idiot.  You are a fucking idiot._   The problem is that it’s true, or near enough.  Not that Blaine had options before Kurt, but now, after a date – just one date – Blaine can’t imagine wanting another hand to hold or other lips to kiss.  It’s silly and ridiculous and Kurt probably has thousands of options and thousands of numbers and that’s why he didn’t answer and –

The phone beeps in Blaine’s ear, indicating an incoming call.  It’s Kurt, and Blaine stares at the name for a long, heart-stopping moment, before he accepts the call.

“Blaine?”

All the tension leaves Blaine’s back and shoulders at just the sound of Kurt’s perfect, lovely voice. “I was just leaving you a message,” he manages to say.  He runs his hand through his already tousled hair.

“I’m sorry, I literally just stepped away from the phone for thirty seconds.”

Kurt almost sounds out of breath, like he ran for the phone, and Blaine wonders, he _hopes_ , that maybe Kurt’s been waiting for him to call.

“Well, then hi.”

“Hi.”  It sounds like Kurt is smiling, and Blaine can’t help but smile too.  Kurt makes him feel light and carefree and perfect, even with just a few words over the phone.  Blaine is going to write this man a song; he knows this already.

“I’m glad you called.  I was…well I’m glad.”

_This is it; this is your chance.  This is your moment.  Take it._

“I uh, well I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Blaine swallows down the rush of insecurity that makes him want to say  _you didn’t have to do that_.  “I had a really, really amazing time, and I, well I-”

The words are right there, at the base of his throat.  Just waiting to be said.  And he needs to be the one to say them; he can’t let Kurt be the one to take every step, to make every move for them, even if that’s the easiest path for Blaine.  If he is ever going to get the things he wants (and while Kurt isn’t a  _thing_  to be had, he’s most definitely what Blaine wants), he needs to dig down and find some of the same courage that helped him take Kurt’s hand and just  _say the words_.

Blaine stops pacing and stares at the black  _Coffee Master_  apron hanging on the back of his bedroom door.  There are many things Blaine wants but thinks are out of his reach, but maybe, just maybe, if he can let himself have this one thing now, the rest will come eventually.  He squares his shoulders and takes a long, slow breath.  He can do this.  He left his father’s home with nothing to his name but a backpack and a scholarship to NYU; he can ask a boy out on a date.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to go out again sometime.  With me.”

There it is.  He’s done his part; the rest is up to Kurt.

“Oh yes, I would like that, very much,” Kurt says, and his voice is still breathlessly pleased.  Blaine wonders if he’s sitting down or if he’s standing and pacing the way Blaine was; he wonders if his cheeks are stained that pretty pink that Blaine remembers so clearly and what shade of blue his eyes are in this moment. 

“Ok, great.”  It’s beyond great, but Blaine cannot tell him that.  It would reveal too much and he’s not ready for that.  Not yet.

“I was hoping you’d call,” Kurt adds.

_Oh._

Blaine flushes even though no one can see him.  “I – well I would have called sooner, but I didn’t want to, I just – well I didn’t quite know the etiquette and I didn’t want to seem…”  _Desperate.  Over eager.  Pathetic_.  “Well, I didn’t want to annoy you or anything.”

“Never.  I almost called you an hour ago, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

Blaine laughs a little.  So maybe Kurt is a little nervous around him too.  “So, I thought maybe we could, uhm, go to an art gallery or two, and then maybe dinner.” It’s a classic and easy date that Blaine thinks he can’t possibly screw up.  “I know a couple of little places with some truly excellent food.”

They’re fairly inexpensive too, but Blaine cannot say that either.

“It sounds wonderful.  When’s a good time for you?  I work during the week, but if you’re free, I mean, tonight works for me.  If you can stand to see my face seven days in a row.” 

 _I would see you every hour of every day if you’d let me,_ Blaine thinks helplessly.

“I think I’ll survive your presence again so soon.”  He prides himself on his ability to flirt, even just a little.  He doesn’t know how to do this at all, but he thinks he’s doing ok, if Kurt’s sweet little laugh is anything to go by.

“Is four too soon?  Unless you have plans already or something-”

“Four is perfect.  Let me text you the directions to the gallery and I’ll meet you there at four?”

“I can’t wait.”

Blaine hangs up and resists the urge to leap up onto the coffee table and shout his joy to the ceiling.  He has another date with Kurt, and tonight no less.  Nothing else matters – not work, not school, not money – nothing.

A few minutes to four, Blaine catches Kurt in front of the art gallery.  He brings a dozen yellow roses from the little market down the way from his place, and Kurt brings red, and they both laugh when they see the flowers in each other’s hands.

Kurt places a soft kiss on Blaine’s cheek before he takes the bouquet from him and pulls out six of the roses and replaces them with six of his own.

“There,” Kurt says, arranging the flowers so the red and yellow are mingled together.  “That’s perfect.”  The smell is sweet and delicate in the still late-afternoon air.

Blaine glances down at the roses, and then up into Kurt’s bright, wonderful eyes.  “Yes, it is.”


End file.
